The fading boundaryBetween my two realities
Lies the the edge of my sleep
On the stitches of the sleeves:
I stood on the steepest tip
Of the antique clock
On the wall
It said nine but it is pronounced seven
Early in the morning
With the murmuring
Of my brother and father
And the buzzing sound from the worn out radio,
Waking me up but it is not time yet
Give me more rest before you regret
Written on 12 March 2016
From the two realities
The future sparks,
The past barks.
The horror of the unexpected illumination,
The fear of the unscheduled revelation,
The unchangeable fate
That haunts through the night
Stays forever in the silent nights.
Written on 1 January 2016.
The Return of the Poetic Heart.
Is a difficult and hard decision
Too tired to choose
To stay or to go.
Thousands of doors on the road
And there ought to be
To go first.
The impact, the impact
That caused by every encounter
Is too big
That nothing is going to be the same
Written on 3 October 2015.
from my hair
deducts the value
to be here:
a man in the history
a page of the story
a line in my poetry
a second in a century
that counts for nothing
but a dream to be buried.
Written on 19 June 2015.
everything comes to an end:
the scent, the smoke, the sorrow and the soup;
the lives, the leddar, the laughter and the love;
the moments that clashed together
changing the paths forever
do all have their ends.
so it stayed
and it goes
and the magic ends
and the veil left
leaving the hollows that follow
mocking the fellow a forever deferral of tomorrow.
Written on 16 June 2015
To one of the favourite place in the neighbourhood: siu chau wong
setting sun, burning dreams, fading youth, passing time:
the golden moment of life becomes prime;
dying light, dimming beam, vanishing dawn, moving tides:
a resurrection of the childish roller coaster ride.
glittering, glittering, glittering stars in the sea
only with a child’s eye which shall be seen.
Written on 3 May 2015
To the glittering fairies in deep beneath.
Growing up together
Is not like happily ever after.
From madness and shouting and jealous and tears
Through craziness and doubts and mind gone insecure
To laughters and cries and memory that slaughters:
Life without you is like a world out of rules,
The past is the fragment that find us fools.
Written on 24 January 2015
A revisit to the past — the high school age